#league fanfic

[manias-wordcount]

Her Good Girl (Vi)

Kinktober 2023 Day Eleven: Dildo

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“Deep breath for me, sweetheart. Come on, in…”

  You take a deep breath in, letting precious air fill your lungs and give you life.

  “...and out.” 

  You let it all go. Letting the breath of life slip past your parted lips for a short trip away from you and your body. It’s necessary. To keep on living. To keep on going. So you don’t miss it. You don’t miss the air that is used to fill your lungs. Besides…

  You have that smile of hers to look forward to.

  “Good girl,” Vi hums at you from between your legs. Her eyes are half-lidded, and her gaze sits heavy, heavy, heavy on your lower stomach. As if it’s the real trouble you have to worry about right now. And not the fact that there’s a hand settling over your waist, trying to keep you still. Or the fact that your legs are thrown over her shoulders, putting you in an especially vulnerable position. Or even the fact that you measly little tank top you were wearing is pushed up high enough that your boobs can do nothing but sit out on your chest- exposed and on display. All for her to see. All for her to enjoy. “Do you want more?”

  “Yes.” You respond quickly. With a shaky voice and a swiftness that’s a little too embarrassing for even you in this moment. In fact, you can even feel all the blood rushing to your face as you only grow more and more flustered. Though that might have something to do with the way Vi’s gaze is constantly flickering downwards towards the main event happening between your thighs. “Yes, I- I want more. Please.”

  Your own voice sounds pathetic in your ears. But in front of you, Vi shutters at the sound and sight of your pretty pink tongue darting out to lick at your lips at the same time. She’s always been so soft with you. She’s always been so weak for you. Wanting to do nothing but touch you. Please you. Pleasure you- the whole nine yards. 

  That’s the whole reason why you’re here right now. Almost completely naked while lying on your back with her between your legs. With your legs up and spread nice and wide. And your soaking wet panties somewhere across the room. Though, you imagine they aren’t as wet as you were when Vi finally stopped teasing you and had you riding her tongue for so, so long. And you imagine they aren’t as wet as you right now

  Considering just how easily this new dildo Vi bought for you glides so easily into your fluttering little hole.

  “Then I’ll give you more,” Your girlfriend murmurs quietly as her hands work to make more of this shiny new toy disappear inside of you. Instantly, you’re pulling a face and breathing harder now than you were before. She moves slowly- not enough to get you loud or screaming. But enough to keep you a little noisy. To make you feel a little stretch. To get you biting at your lip and grabbing at her wrist for a chance to ground yourself as the dildo pushes further and further and further inside of you. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

  You don’t doubt that. You didn’t doubt that. Not the first time she said it to you. Not the last time she said it to you. Not even for a second. You believed her full-heartedly when she called you to come back home and told you that she was going to take care of your every little need tonight. 

You believed her completely when you arrived to see the packaging of a seven-inch bright pink and thick dildo in the trash and the toy itself sitting out on the counter to dry. And now you believe it with every fiber of your being. That she’ll take care of you. That she’ll pleasure you. Give you all you want. Especially now that had she started pushing this brand-new toy of hers past your lower lips and into your dripping-wet hole…

  …only to pull it all the way out and shove it fully back in.

  “Ah…” Your moans are soft. Near silent in this bedroom safe space she shares with you. But she drives it up. Her ears drink up every sound you and your lewd body make for her and for her alone. From the sounds of your moans and groans and gasps to the sounds of the sheets rustling beneath you. And even the wet, dirty sounds that your pussy makes as your walls are stretched out and stuffed full all by Vi’s doing. All by Vi’s hands. “Oh…oh…”

  You start to sit up on the bed, propping yourself up on your arms as you try to watch her work out the tightness building within you. But she’s quick to take the hand she had on your waist and to push you back into flying flat on the bed. And without missing a beat, you find your legs being bent further and your body being nearly folded in half as Vi leans into you. But then she starts taking you further. While still using one hand to work the dildo inside of you- slipping it in and sliding it out so, so easily- she’s using the other to bring your knees to your chest.

  This angle allows her to get closer to you. So, so much closer. Now her face is mere inches away from your drooling pussy, ready for your clit to be licked and flicked if Vi so wishes. Now her face is mere inches away from your chest- nipples ready to be sucked on if Vi so wishes. And even more than that- now her face is mere inches away from yours. With eyes ready to meet and lips ready to kiss and kiss until she has to remind you to breathe for her again.

  And that’s exactly what she does.

  Because while she’s kissing you, she can move even closer to you. She can swallow up your even sound- your every moan and cry and whimper and gasp for air. She can swallow it all up, and she owns it. And she does all of that while another hand comes up and cups at your boobs. Fondling them. Rolling a nipple between two fingers. Squeezing, touching, holding, feeling. But most of all?

  She can do all that while working the dildo inside of you to reach deeper. To hit harder. To make the pleasure feel even more sweeter. Even more intense. Then the second before. And the second before that. And the second before that as well. 

  She can stretch you out. She can make you feel so full and stuffed and tight before pulling it all away. Making you miss the feeling of that brand-new toy being pushed past your lower lips and swallowed by your pretty little cunny. More than you miss the air that leaves your lungs. Because even though you know it’s going to come back. Even though you know it’s about to happen all over again and again and again and again? You find that it’s something to look forward to. You still find that it’s something that feels necessary. To keep on going. To keep on living. To keep on feeling good. To keep on being hers.

  “Good girl...good, good, good girl….”

  Her good girl.

[milksuu]

RAHHH APHELIOS FANS RISE 🦅🦅🦅🦅

i need… I need him to whimper during sex… idk how… idk when… but I know he whimpers I can just feel it… do with this as u please

❥ prompt: He made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake. Aphelios thought since you were such a cute shorty, the bedroom would be his domain. How did he end up being bottom, pinned, with you on top!? ❥ content/warnings: nswf 18+, cute!softdom!reader, teasing, light-bondage ❥ characters/pairings: Heartsteel!aphelios / f!smol!reader (minor implied poly!sett/phel/reader)

He met you on the bustling train. Jammed packed after rush hour. An uncomfortable place to be. With no seats available, he took the reigns over head. Another stop. Another wave of bodily masses rushing in. It sent you colliding against him. He dropped his phone in the process. He wasn't too happy about that. It was too cramped for him to reach down and get it.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologized. With your short stature, you were able to crouch and retrieve the phone. Why was he paying so much attention to your petite hands?

Nevermind. There weren't any cracks on the phone screen. That was good. He merely nodded as thanks. With each bump and sway of the tram, there you went. Like a marble in a pinball machine. With much effort on your tiptoes, he watched as you tried to reach for a free reign, but it was a long shot. It was cute...maybe in a slightly pathetic way.

Aphelios sighed. It was only a matter of time before you were underfoot of some sweaty salaryman. Time for his good deed of the day. He slipped his phone inside his pocket and encouraged you to hold onto him. Stumbling a bit, you took the invitation. You grabbed onto his shirt with both hands. Slowly, you rolled your head up. He made the mistake of looking down.

He hated to admit it, but you were too cute beyond words. The top of your head barely made it to his collarbone. Your eyes were big, soft---absolutely soul sucking. If he was back in 5th grade, to keep himself from admitting he liked them, he'd draw an insect with huge bug-eyes and point it at you.

He forced his sight elsewhere. Your work bag. Attached to one of the zippers was a handful of plushie keychains. He recognized them to be from the same crane game arcade him and Sett went to often. He was a master at those technical grabs. You were probably some casual player. Maybe you had some other guy win them for you. Probably had to spend more than he bargained for. Unimpressive. (This boy is trying real hard not to like you.)

Well, he was wrong about that. You were a professional crane game player. And managed your own business of shipping those adorable plushies overseas to customers. You even had a pretty popular stream going on Twitch showing you doing it all. (Alright, he caved).

When you two started dating, your collection of plushies rivaled Sett's anyday. When his own bed started matching his roommate's, he wasn't sure whether he should be concerned. Again, he gave up. You enjoyed gifting him plushies specifically won for him. And he enjoyed seeing you happy on his bed.

・❥・

"You're so cute like this, Phelly~"

Ah. That was it, huh? You fooled him. Utterly and completely. It should've been the other way around. With him on top, you blushing pink, and shyly asking for him to take you.

But here he was, pinned naked underneath you, mask off, and his chin tossed away. Hating how flushed his own cheeks felt. Hating how his whole body felt like it was melting from your touch. Hating that just on the other side of the room, Sett was fast sleep, back turned. For now, at least.

"Hmm? Wonder how quiet Pelly can really be," you whispered cutely, sadistically. "You wouldn't want us to be caught. Unless...you want to?"

Aphelios swallowed for a breath. Seriously. How did it end up like this? He was the one who initiated. Trying to impress you by getting out of his comfort zone and doing it while his roommate was sleeping. But this was beyond the scope of how he thought this whole thing would play out. He made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.

It was made more apparent when you grabbed the long ears of a rabbit plushie, and tied his wrists securely above his head. Oh no. How did he not notice? His demise was planned from the very beginning. All these plushie's were here to lower his guard. Thinking he was safe. Thinking he had any control of the bedroom in the first place. No, these weren't just stuffed animals—these were your diabolical sex minions. And they served the most cute cruel mistress.

"I won't let you cover your mouth. No matter what. So you gotta be extra good tonight. Okay?" You positioned his tip already glistening with precum to your entrance. His breath hitched. Not a good start. You giggled softly, "I don't think Phelly's going to be good at all. Oh, well~"

You pushed your hips down slowly. Spreading around his shaft till you sat deliciously full. Oh, shit—Aphelios clenched his eyes tight. His hands fisting together till his knuckles turned white. He bit down hard on his bottom lip. He refused to let you milk any noises from him.

Suppressing your own moans, you leaned down, pressing your breasts against his chest. "So cute how quiet you're trying to be. But for how much longer, hm?"

You claimed his mouth, sucking and pulling on his lips. Sliding your tongue into his mouth, you worked yourself on his cock. Covering him with your warm fluids. His pelvis now slick and sticky between your thighs. He heavy panted between your kisses, his breaths shuddering.

At this point, he was getting closer to his edge. Not sure exactly how he'd been able to hold back for this long. He couldn't think of anything but how good your insides felt. So hot and tight.

You slipped off his head phones, abandoned his mouth, and sucked on his earlobe. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Your warm breaths and cute moans against his ear sent him spirling. He couldn't hold back anymore. He whimpered, he whined, whatever—he didn't care anymore. He just wanted to come inside you. No, that was wrong. It wasn't a want anymore. It was an unbearable need.

He bucked his hips, slapping against you over and over again. Now you both were whining and whimpering. You jolted, your walls clamping tighter, and tighter. Feeling you swell and come around him so hard, Apehlios thought he saw stars. His cock throbbed and pulsed. He muffled his fluttering cries between your shoulder and neck, pumping deeper, filling you completely up. Coming down from the high, relieved pants filled the finished after silence.

"Geez. Can't a guy get some quality sleep over here?" Sett groaned out loud, turning over. Aphelios almost launched you off the bed when he scrambled to untie himself and cover you both up. "Pfft. Chill out. Nothing I haven't seen or done before," Sett said, rolling back to face the wall. "You guys owe me. I'm keeping you both up tomorrow."

You giggled and rubbed your cheek against his arm. Aphelios groaned. Of course things had to turn out this way.

an: listen listen, yall aphelios degens i just wanna say.... *smooches* thanks for the req. anon.

[mistresscitrusslice]

“Our Hextech dream” this, “our Hextech dream” that. What about “our Glorious Evolution”? Where are my “Jayce willingly joins Viktor’s Glorious Evolution under no duress except his own deteriorating sanity” fics?

[sloan-baux]

When my spouse finds me fervently writing my fanfic at 4 a.m. and drags me into bed:

[racco]

Hi there! I love your writing! I was wondering if I could request some Aphelios x Fem! Reader headcanons. With a super bubbly, energetic, social, emotional and strange s/o.

Aphelios x fem! Bubbly and energetic! reader HC's + oneshot

Hi I also added in a short story since the headcanons were few

☆Aphelios is initially attracted to his girlfriend's energy and bubbly personality. He finds her enthusiasm infectious and is drawn to her positive attitude.

☆His girlfriend is fascinated by Aphelios' unique abilities and weapons, and she loves to ask him questions about them. Aphelios, who is not used to talking about himself, finds her interest endearing.

☆Despite their different personalities, Aphelios and his girlfriend compliment each other well. She helps to bring him out of his shell, while he provides a calming presence for her when she gets too excited or emotional

☆When they're not on the Rift, Aphelios and his girlfriend enjoy spending time outdoors. She thought it would be nice to get Phel outside a bit more. They go on long walks in the forest, have picnics by the river, and stargaze at night.

☆His girlfriend is a bit of a daredevil and loves to try new things. She convinces Aphelios to try rollerblading with her, which turns out to be a disaster. But he can't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even as he's nursing his bruises.

☆Aphelios is a man of few words, but his girlfriend has a talent for getting him to open up. She asks him about his family, his past, and his hopes for the future. Over time, Aphelios starts to share more with her, and he finds that he enjoys the connection they have.

☆His girlfriend's positive attitude helps Aphelios to stay focused and motivated, both on and off the battlefield. She cheers him on during battles and reminds him to take breaks when he's working too hard.

☆Despite their differences, Aphelios and his girlfriend are deeply in love. They may be an unlikely pair, but they compliment each other perfectly, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Aphelios stood at the edge of the Rift, his eyes trained on the battlefield ahead. He was in the midst of a heated battle, his weapons at the ready as he prepared to take down his enemies. But amidst the chaos and destruction, he couldn't help but feel a little distracted. His mind kept wandering back to the bubbly, energetic girl he had met a few weeks ago.

She was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Her energy was contagious, and her strange quirks always kept him on his toes. She had a way of making him feel alive, even in the darkest of moments. And he couldn't help but feel drawn to her.

As he fought off the enemy champions, his mind drifted to the last time he had seen her. She had surprised him with a picnic in the middle of the forest, complete with sandwiches and a bottle of wine. They had spent hours lying on a blanket, talking and laughing as they watched the clouds pass overhead.

He smiled to himself, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. Despite the chaos of the battlefield, he felt at peace knowing that she was out there, somewhere.

Just then, a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath him, snapping him out of his reverie. He turned his attention back to the battle, focusing on taking down his opponents with renewed vigor.

As the battle raged on, he began to feel a sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He glanced around, searching for any sign of his girlfriend.

And then he saw her. She was standing at the edge of the battlefield, her arms outstretched as if she were about to take flight. Her hair was wild and untamed, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

He couldn't help but smile in spite of himself. She was strange, yes, but she was also one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. And in that moment, he knew that he would do anything to protect her.

He charged forward, his weapons glinting in the sunlight as he cut down his enemies with ruthless efficiency. And as he fought, he knew that he was fighting not just for himself, but for her as well.

As the battle drew to a close, Aphelios emerged victorious. He stood amidst the wreckage, his eyes scanning the battlefield for any sign of his girlfriend.

And then he saw her again. She was running towards him, her arms outstretched as she threw herself into his arms. He caught her, holding her close as he breathed in the sweet scent of her hair.

"I missed you," she whispered, her voice soft and sweet.

"I missed you too," he whisperd, his throat still was swollen up from the potion that he takes during battle but he wanted her know he did miss her too.

Together, they walked away from the battlefield, hand in hand. And as they walked, Aphelios knew that he would do anything to protect her, even if it meant sacrificing everything he had ever known.

[writerblue275]

The One That Could Break My Heart (Chapter 2)

Inspiration: "Houdini" and “Break My Heart” - Dua Lipa, “Got Me Started” - Troye Sivan, “Tattoo” - Loreen (that’s right we’re adding another one lmao).

Champion: Ezreal (Like Pilty!Ez.)

Summary: You once again fill the role as Ezreal’s plus-one, but things don’t always go according to plan and you have a startling realization.

Genre: Song-inspired fic

Type: Fluff, Angst (but happy ending to chapter), Smut-ish (18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Gender: Reader who is comfortable with she/her pronouns and with being referred to as a daughter. There are also typically fem presenting clothes and stuff mentioned (but obviously clothes and stuff are not limited to the gender binary).

TW: Swearing, suggestive content (NSFW). Some emotional distress/angst. Mention of torture/violence/death (Jesus that makes it sound so bad) mainly in a nightmare-ish setting. Mention of alcohol (drink responsibly).

Important context: I’m involving Jayce/early HexTech as an example because it’s my story lmao. This is like over double the length of Chapter 1, but you know what, a lot happens plot-wise, so 🤷‍♀️.

Also: Please take this as my humble holiday gift. Happy Christmas Eve to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t, Happy Holidays! I hope your winter season is filled with love and joy.

Key:

“Break My Heart” lyrics in orange

“Houdini” lyrics in blue

“Got Me Started” lyrics in purple

“Tattoo” lyrics in green

“Everything you say is soundin’ so sweet.”

As you slowly drift back to consciousness, your first thought is how lovely and warm you are. My bedroom isn’t normally this warm! Not without a pile of blankets on top of me. But now all you feel is a sheet and one blanket covering you and it’s perfect.

The next couple things your mind registers are arms around you and a pair of soft lips slowly and gently kissing up and down your neck. The feeling is heavenly and you can’t help but let out a soft unintelligible moan as your brain finally manages to register where you are and who the lips belong to. You’re at Ezreal’s house, in his bed, and those are his lips currently nibbling the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“E-Ez,” you murmur sleepily. You try to tilt your head a little to give him more space, try being the operative word. Your brain isn’t exactly connected to your muscles in its current sleepy state. You let out a happy whine as he chuckles and nips your jaw.

“Good morning, princess. Does that feel good?” he murmurs softly into your ear, his voice husky and a bit deeper from sleep.

You softly moan and lace your fingers with the hand he’s anchored on your stomach. “Ez, please…I’m not…dreaming…right?” Your question is just a little more coherent as you start to actually wake, though your words are definitely still sleep-slurred.

You can feel him chuckle against your neck. “Not a dream, baby. I’ve missed waking you up like this…” He punctuates his point by gently nipping your ear.

You can’t help but let out a soft whimper. As you try to shift in his embrace, you squeeze his hand, trying to use any leverage you can to face him, even with your eyes still closed. “Kiss me…please,” you sleepily beg as you’re unsuccessful in your mission of turning yourself in his arms.

“Easy….I’ve got you…easy, princess…let me take care of you,” Ezreal coos softly, gently adjusting you so you’re laying on your back before one of his hands returns to lace with yours. His other hand gently strokes along your side for a moment. “Can you open your eyes for me?" His lips gently kiss and nibble along your jawline.

You finally manage to flutter your eyes open, turning your head to the side his voice is coming from. There you’re greeted with a delightfully heart-stopping sight. Ez is smirking gently down at you as he rests on his side, head propped up on his palm, with the blanket slid down to his waist, showing off his bare chest and abs. You stretch your arms a little before reaching over and resting your hand on his chest, gently trailing your fingertips down, and giving him a sleepy little smile. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice still a little husky as well, though he’s the main cause of that, not sleep.

All of his features light up as he smiles. “That’s it, princess,” he says quietly. He moves his head down towards yours. “Very good,” his voice ends in a whisper as he takes your lips in a kiss that can only be described as…drugging. It’s deep, slow, addictive, heart-racing, and breathtaking. It’s everything you wanted.

A happy noise slips from your throat and you tangle your hands in his hair as you kiss him back. After a few long moments, you pull away, a content smile on your lips. “You certainly know my favorite way to wake up” you sigh out, biting your bottom lip as you look up at him.

He gently uses his thumb to tug your bottom lip free of your teeth. The unexpected gesture causes your cheeks to heat and your heart to skip a few more beats. He leans down and kisses you deeply again, making you sigh again in even more delight as your hands move to rest against his chest.

“Sleep well?” He inquires in a murmur against your lips.

You slowly nod and stretch some more with a little smirk once he pulls back. “You made sure I would.”

After you and Ezreal cuddled for a while after finishing dinner last night, the two of you ended up going another round before you both fell asleep, him spooning you. It was truly exquisite, how easily you fell asleep. You never fall asleep as quickly as when you’re with him.

You gently flop back on the mattress, looking up at the ceiling as you’re transported into your mind. You can’t help but focus on the past. You think about how young you never would have imagined this situation being in the future of your friendship with the troublemaker son/nephew of your father’s colleagues. Her jaw would be on the floor.

“Princess, you just woke up! What’s got you thinking so much already?” Ez asks on a chuckle, poking your stomach gently.

You turn your head and shoot him a sleepy grin. “Just how shocked younger me would be that this is where our friendship has gone. She wouldn’t believe it at all. Remember? The first time we met I was so shy, I barely said a few sentences to you. Now look at us,” you remark. “Did you ever think things would be like this? With the history professor’s daughter?”

Ez looks down at you. He responds thoughtfully, “Honestly, no. Younger me didn’t see this being part of our future friendship/relationship to each other. But, I’ve never been so glad to be wrong in my life. I feel very lucky to have been wrong.” He leans down and kisses your forehead softly, his hand once again lacing with one of yours. The actions make your heart flutter and your eyes widen slightly.

You reach up with your free hand and gently cup his cheek, making him look at you. “Who are you and what have you done with Ezreal? You’ve been exceptionally affectionate and sweet since you’ve been home, Ez. Though I’m not complaining. I really like this sweet side of you, but it is different from how things have been in the past,” you observe softly. You let your curiosity linger for a moment before finally asking the questions that are stuck on your mind. “Ezreal, is…is everything alright? Is there anything you want to talk about? Did something happen on your expedition?”

You instantly notice how he stiffens as you mention his expedition and also how he hesitates as if thinking what to say.

You gently trace his bottom lip. “It’s alright, Ez. I won’t push you to tell me anything. I know I can’t comprehend everything you’ve seen in the field, especially when it comes to dangers you’ve faced,” you comment, moving to gently trace his jaw with your thumb.

He stiffens again slightly when you mention dangers. You know his body language well enough at this point to understand that he faced something that he’s hesitant to tell you about.

“As long as you know you can tell me anything without judgement, that’s all I care about,” you soothe, giving him a soft smile.

He leans down and kisses you softly, murmuring, “I do know that, and I’m very grateful. I will tell you. I’m just not ready to relive it quite yet.”

You nod and brush his hair out of his eyes. “Understood. I’m very sorry you went through that, then. When you are ready to talk about it it, I’m here to listen,” you promise him softly. “Always.”

“We’ve got that hot chemistry, you and me won’t make it out this house.”

It was a very slow and easy day for the two of you. Once both of you initially left bed, you shared a lovely and long shower, followed by a delicious, but simple, breakfast back in bed. Then the two of you just cuddled and chatted the afternoon away, mainly talking about your life updates since he was gone for two months with very little contact to home.

You also took a small little nap curled up against Ezreal’s chest. You fell asleep to his hands playing with your hair and rubbing your back, a perfect combination to knock you out.

A couple hours later, and now you’re getting ready for the dinner party with him.

Ez walks out of his closet and into his bathroom wearing a well-tailored black suit set and holding a garment bag, walking over to you as you finish putting on your makeup. He smiles as he meets your eyes in the bathroom vanity mirror. “Ready to see your dress? I think you’ll like it.

You smile back at him. “I’m sure I will. You know my fashion tastes very well by this point, Indiana Jones,” you observe. “Ok show me!” You turn towards him, closing your eyes, and patiently waiting as he unzips the cover.

Ezreal removes the dress from the garment bag and holds it up by the hanger. “Alright princess,” he says. “Open your eyes now.”

You do and you can’t help but let out a little gasp of delight at the clothing in front of you. It’s an off the shoulder purple cocktail-length dress with a fitted purple bodice at the top, covered in subtle 3d floral details, and a flowy tulle skirt that is ever-so-slightly high-low.

You murmur a little breathlessly, “Oh my goodness Ez, that’s so pretty! Is this what you bought the purple set to wear with?”

He nods and says, “As smart as ever. Yes, that’s why I got the purple set. It’s strapless at the top so you should be fine to wear it with this neckline.”

You immediately walk closer to him and kiss his cheek, murmuring happily, “Thank you, Ez. It’s truly beautiful. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such special gifts, but thank you for giving them to me.” You pull back and immediately walk over to your bag, getting out the purple set, with its matching top, bottoms, and garter belt.

As you gently herd him out of the bathroom and close the door you call out, “After I change into these, will you help me into the dress? I’ll need assistance with that zipper.”

“Of course. Happy to help, princess,” he calls back.

You quickly change into the lacy purple set, also pulling on some hose and connecting them to your garters. As you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror, you can’t help but say, “Well fuck! I look sexy...”

Ez’s voice sounds through the closed bathroom door, tinged with amusement, “You always do, princess. Why do you sound so surprised?”

You can’t help but smirk and giggle, “Such a charmer, Ez! Alright come in, I’m ready for your help.”

You just giggle even more as he opens the door and freezes after taking only a couple steps with his eyes glued on you.

“Fucking hell, (Y/N), you look stunning,” he breathes. He hangs up the dress on a clothes peg behind him before quickly coming over to you. The second he reaches you, one of his hands is in your hair and the other is pulling you to him, holding your waist. His lips are on yours with a passion that has you gasping and even has your knees going a little weak, making you wrap your arms around his neck just to make sure you don’t fall. He chuckles, sliding the hand on your waist around your back so his arm helps better support you as his lips move to your jaw and throat.

You’re practically panting as you try to recatch your breath. “Careful Indiana Jones,” you gasp and whimper as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Keep this up and we won’t even make it out of this house to get to dinner. Hell, we won’t even make it out of this bedroom.”

His very amused murmur sounds in your ear, “Don’t threaten me with a good time. I see no problem with that particular outcome, baby. That sounds like a far more enjoyable evening to me.” His lips reattach themselves to your neck, causing you to gasp again as your hands tangle in his hair.

“Ezreal, do not leave a hickey when we’re about to go in public. I was barely able to throw my brother and parents off their suspicions of you the last time you left a visible mark. I’m still not completely sure they believe me. Do you know how it would look if we show up together and I have hickeys on me? I’m fairly certain my parents and your uncle would murder both of us once they heard about it!” You scold him breathlessly as you tug on his hair to get him to remove his lips from your neck.

He just smirks wickedly and instead of pulling away completely, he moves his lips to the soft skin of your upper arm. “Fine. Then I won’t make it obvious. I’m still going to mark you, though. Just in a place your dress covers. I know how much you love it when I mark you, (Y/N), don’t even try to say you don’t.”

You close your eyes and let out a soft noise of pleasure as your head goes back. “Fuck…I do,” you let out on a sigh as he does just what he said he would. He leaves a cluster of small marks on soft skin that will soon be covered by the off-the-shoulder sleeves of your dress.

He pulls back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect,” he observes on a smirk. “Now let’s get you into your dress so you can fix your hair. Apologies for messing it up,” he says, not sounding apologetic in the very slightest as he checks himself over in the mirror. “Whatever makeup you used though, good choice. Your lipstick didn’t smudge or get on me at all.”

You laugh as you wait for him to unzip the dress from the hanger and bring it over to you. “I should be upset with you about messing up my hair, but I can’t really be mad when you kiss me like that. Damn, Ezreal!” Your voice is still a little breathless. “That was…..woah…”

He laughs as he stands behind you and helps you step into the dress. He holds it up as you put your arms through the unconventional sleeves. He also helps zip you up, wrapping his arms around you, leaning forward, and kissing a bare shoulder once he’s done. “There,” he murmurs. “Just as incredible as I thought you would look.”

You smile and turn, kissing his cheek softly and uttering a gentle, “thank you.” You reluctantly step out of the warmth of his arms, going to the mirror to quickly fix your mussed hair. When you turn around again, he’s holding a pair of purple heels that match your dress. Once you walk over to him, he offers his arm and lets you use him to stabilize yourself as you step into the heels. They’re not ungodly tall, but heels have never been your forte.

You look at him with a raised brow. “Making sure I hang onto you all night, are you, Indiana Jones? You know me and heels aren’t besties. Promise to keep me upright?” you tease.

He sends you a wink. “Always, princess."

He leads you downstairs once you grab your small clutch with your essentials in it. As he opens the front door, you see a pretty carriage with horses and a driver.

You pause, your mouth opening in a surprised oval as you let out a small little gasp of, “Oh!”

You hear Ez chuckle next to you. “I thought we’d arrive in classic style tonight. And besides, I didn’t want to make you walk in those heels,” he murmurs as he offers you his arm to hold. Once you’re securely holding onto him, he leads you to the carriage steps, making sure you’re able to easily get in before pulling himself up and into the plush interior to the bench next to you. He laces his fingers with yours as he calls out to the driver to go.

After about a 10-minute ride, you see the line of carriages lined up to drop off occupants at the mansion of the council member who was hosting tonight’s dinner. You couldn’t even remember who was hosting. You only knew a couple of the councilors and it wasn’t any of them. As your carriage approaches the drop off point, you start to get nervous as you see flashes of exposed camera bulbs going off.

“You think by now I’d be used to the cameras and reporters,” you utter, “but god they still freak me out. I’m not photogenic, Ez. I still don’t get why you don’t have some model come with you. They’d do so much better in front of the cameras and in polite conversations. You could get whoever you wanted.” Your hands are starting to shake as your anxiety starts to really kick in.

Ezreal uses a finger to gently turn your head towards him. “(Y/N)…hey, don’t say stuff like that. You look incredible. Also, a random model isn’t my best friend of almost two decades who knows me better than I know myself a lot of times. And they certainly wouldn’t be as fascinating as I find you to be,” he voices reassuringly. He ends his affirmations with a quick peck to your lips. “I’ll do most of the talking if that makes you feel better. Just hold onto me. I’ll never let you fall or look stupid. Do you trust me on that?” Ez’s gentle question helps break through your nerves.

“Of course. I trust you completely, Ezreal. Always,” you answer honestly, giving him a small smile before taking a deep breath and rolling your shoulders back.

He smiles at you. “That’s more like it. Ready, princess? Your adoring public awaits,” he jokes.

You can’t help but grin. “But of course! As per usual, I’m ready to be your arm candy, Indiana Jones. Lead the way!”

“It’s your moment baby don’t let it slip.”

He laughs as the driver finally opens the carriage doors at the drop off point. Ez easily slides out of the carriage before turning back to you and helping you down the gap between the carriage steps and the ground. He makes sure you’re stable and offers you his arm to hold.

You smile brightly at Ez as you take his arm. “Thank you!” you whisper. You allow him to lead you along the walkway lined with reporters and photographers. You keep your attention primarily focused on him, and honestly it does wonders for tuning everything else out. He primarily keeps his attention on you as well, chatting casually with you instead of talking to the reporters or photographers clambering for his attention. Before you even know it, both of you are being welcomed into the spacious home of the councilman hosting. “Hoskel,” You hear his name murmured by some passing staff.

The two of you are led to a drawing room where everyone is gathering before moving to the dining room for the formal dinner. Your names are both announced by a very distinguished looking butler. As soon as Ez’s name is announced, there’s a moment of stunned silence as people stare at him before the chattering gets even louder, everyone clearly discussing the return of Piltover’s “prodigal explorer.”

You lean close to his ear. “Looks like you’ll be the hot topic as per usual. Granted, I already knew about the “hot” part,” you playfully tease.

He smirks at you. “Ready for the introductions, princess?” He murmurs. “The only important people I don’t see in here are councilor Hoskel and his wife, but I’m sure they’re just playing host.” He squeezes your hand as the first curious guests approach for an introduction. It didn’t take long, but you’re not shocked. Everyone wants to meet and talk to Ezreal.

You’re touched how Ez always makes sure to introduce you when he’s meeting someone. Out of the two of you, he’s always been far more of a social butterfly. Having him do most of the talking works really well for your dynamic. As he introduces you, as always, you are surprised at the number of people who recognize your last name. You’ve always been proud of your father, your mother who is an attorney, and your brother, who is involved in Piltover politics, but now you realize their accomplishments are farther reaching than you even realized. They’re very well respected, even among Piltover’s elite. Knowing how humble you are, Ez also makes sure to brag about your many accomplishments, making you blush and smile shyly before you talk about yourself.

Once there’s a lull in the introductions, you lean over to him again. “It’s kind of you to brag about my accomplishments, Ez, but they really don’t compare to yours. You’re doing the impossible,” you murmur.

He frowns a little bit. “(Y/N) your accomplishments are just as important. Your past successes when you were in music. Your multiple degrees in public health. Your non-profit work in cancer treatment research. Your job literally helps find cures for cancer. Don’t you realize how incredible that is? You’re very easy to brag about, princess. You’ve done incredible things and I’ve always been really proud of you,” he murmurs back passionately.

“Ez….that’s,” you battle speechlessness. After a moment you squeeze the arm you’re holding onto. “You keep saying the sweetest things anyone has ever said to me,” you manage softly, almost fighting back tears. “T-thank you…truly..”

“And I mean all of it, (Y/N). I’m proud to have you in my life, just as I’ve heard you say you’re proud to have me in yours,” he says.

You slide your hand down his arm and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. “I believe you, Ez. And it means so much to me, I can’t even say the proper words. But thank you.” You pause for a moment before leaning over and quickly pecking his cheek.

Such displays of affection in public are rare between the two of you. Neither of you want anyone to get the wrong idea. But he doesn’t look upset. In fact, there’s a very slight twinge of pink on his cheeks along with a shy smile.

Just then, the host and his wife walk in and announce dinner. Everyone is led to the main dining room which is elegantly decorated with a massive table in the middle. Ez leads you to the two chairs with your names in front of them. He’s sitting to your right and the two of you are only a couple seats down from the head of the table. No doubt so Hoskel can ask Ez his own questions about his expedition. Ez pulls out your chair, waiting for you to sit before pushing your seat closer to the table for you.

You smile at him. “Thank you, Ez. Always a gentleman,” you observe happily before lowering your voice and leaning closer to his ear. “Well at least you are in public.” You smirk so only he can see. “In private with me, you’re certainly no gentleman…”

He gets a wicked grin on his face and winks at you as he leans down, his voice practically a low purr against your ear, “I take offense to that, princess. I believe you thought me quite a gentleman this morning.”

“Only after our shower. Before that, you were only a semi-gentleman, Ezreal.” You grin at him as he sits down next to you. Both of you put your napkins on your laps and look around as everyone else settles in. Tonight you’re dining with quite a few members of Piltover’s elite and regardless if you’re very chatty or not, it’s an interesting people-watching opportunity.

Dinner soon starts with an appetizer of a delicious and light soup that reminds you of gazpacho. Once people settle into the course, conversation continues easily again, and sure enough, one of the guests on your end of the table soon asks Ezreal if it’s true he just returned from an excursion.

Ez nods. “I did. I was in the southwest area of Shurima for two months, looking for a legendary tomb only talked about in ancient manuscripts. The tomb is called the Tomb of the Fallen Lovers. Supposedly it’s where an old king went mad and buried himself alive after witnessing the death of his beloved queen via torture when their kingdom was invaded.”

A hush falls over the table as he speaks, everyone eager to hear his story. “How tragic!” You hear someone murmur to their table mate.

Ez turned his head toward the commenter. “Yes it was tragic. What made it even more tragic was she hadn’t been tortured at all. It was all the cruel illusion of an enemy mage. So his queen was unharmed all this time. Then she went mad with grief when she learned what happened to her husband, sealing herself in with him. The tomb is believed to be cursed and anyone who enters will see one of their loved ones being tortured in order for them to lose their will to live, just as the king did. And that’s just one trap protecting the tomb. There are many others as well,” he explained.

He pauses a moment to build up anticipation. Once he looks around, he continues, “The traps were both physical traps, and mental traps caused by magic. And they were hiding things. Elixirs, amulets, and other treasures. Which I was able to retrieve.”

Ez then goes into a longer explanation of a lot of the physical traps he faced. You find yourself getting more and more tense as he explains all the dangers he experienced. He’d really been in quite a bit of peril, and that was upsetting for you to think about. Though you know he is extremely capable, you don't enjoy thinking about your best friend being in danger. As he continues, you’re really hoping Ez can’t see the slight tremor of your soup spoon.

It seems you aren’t so lucky at avoiding Ez’s keen sense of observation. After a couple more moments of him talking, you feel a warm hand gently slide onto your right knee under the table. His hand is over the fabric of your dress, but the thin tulle isn’t much of an insulator from his body heat.

You subtly switch your soup spoon to your left hand so you can covertly slide your right hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze to give your permission to his touch. You then remove your hand from his so you can continue to act as if you’re just listening to his story casually, like everyone else. Internally though, your brain is practically short circuiting as his hand very slowly makes its way up your thigh, above your dress. It takes every ounce of your control to keep from blushing wildly as his thumb gently traced the letters of his name, your name, and then other words you can’t make out against your skirt.

This smart smart man. He knows what he’s doing. You think you’d be used to it by now, with the number of times he’s done it, but every time, his gentle touch manages to completely snare your attention. Soon enough you’re not listening at all to the words of his story, distracted to the point of only focusing on keeping your face pleasantly impassive.

Eventually he gives your thigh one last squeeze before moving his hand back down to your knee. It’s his own way of warning you he’s winding down his story, allowing you time to gradually tune back into his words.

The next person to speak is councilor Hoskel. “Ezreal, you’ve been to many places very few of us could comprehend. Places filled with all sorts of traps, both physical and magical, as you say. What has been the worst or scariest trap you’ve ever faced to get an artifact?”

The unexpected happens. You feel Ezreal, nearly unshakable in all things, freeze and stiffen. His hand on your knee grips a little tighter, as if he’s trying to keep himself anchored to you and to reality. You glance at him, keeping a straight face even as you’re increasingly alarmed to notice he’s gone pale. He’s hesitating, and you can tell by how tense he is this question makes Ezreal think of something that truly rattled him. You hate seeing your usually unflappable partner-in-crime so tense.

As you lace your fingers with his hand on your knee, squeezing his hand reassuringly, you do something you tend to avoid doing at these events. You draw attention to yourself.

Your words to the councilman are coated in a deceptively polite coolness. “Councilor Hoskel, are you aware how insensitive your question is?” It’s a blatantly bold statement, especially to a member of Piltover’s ruling council, but your loyalty to Ez has you speaking without a filter, and well, it’s too late to take it back now.

The rest of the diners sitting around you let out a soft gasp. Hoskel himself looks stunned at your audacity. “Insensitive? Please elaborate,” he demands.

You stare him down as you gently squeeze Ezreal’s hand again, a silent indicator that you’re gladly taking this man on. “I’m sure Ezreal would rather not relive something he classifies as “the worst trap he’s ever faced.” We heard at the beginning of his story the tale of the fallen lovers and how the tomb came to have its name. That entire series of events was caused by an extremely cruel moment of magic. As Ezreal told us, that curse still exists meaning anyone who enters they tomb will see a realistic illusion of someone they love dearly being violently tortured and killed. For the sake of my argument, I’ll use that trap as my example. This is a rhetorical question, but if it were you, would you want to remind yourself of the time you saw an illusion of your lovely wife in that situation?” You say, pausing a moment to let what you just said sink in with everyone before continuing.

“I certainly wouldn’t want to relive that moment, especially not if I only recently experienced it for the first time anyway. That is just one of many psychological, mystical, and physical traps Ezreal has faced across the continent, and not even just the continent, but in that tomb alone, as he just told us. If it were me, the last thing I’d like to do is think about all the moments I faced intense magic or weapons that were set with the sole purpose of killing me. Especially when I must think about said moments because someone wants to be entertained by my answer. That seems like it’s own unique form of psychological torture,” you observe quietly but firmly. “In Piltover, we’ve seen the beauty of magic and human ingenuity, using Mr. Talis’ burgeoning HexTech as an example. What Ezreal does on his expeditions repeatedly brings him face-to-face with magic’s cruelty, as well as the dangerous cunning of humanity. Horrific things you and I could never dare to imagine.” You never once take your eyes off of Hoskel’s face, and you take great pride in the fact that he’s the one to first look away.

Hoskel finally meets your eyes again and nods. His acknowledgment is begrudging as he says, “I see your reasoning. You have an excellent point, Miss…”

“(Y/L/N),” you quickly finish his sentence for him.

Hoskel studies you closely. “Like the history professor at the academy?”

You nod. “Yes sir, he’s my father,” you explain. “My mother is one of the personal attorneys for councilor Kiramman and her family. You also work with my twin brother. He’s a member of the sub council that oversees daily academy affairs.” You explain proudly. You then do another thing you try to avoid at all costs. You brag about yourself, “I myself work in the non-profit sector helping run clinical trials for cancer drugs. It might not be the most “glamorous” work, but I’m proud to do it and try to make a difference in the lives of Piltovans.” Bragging about yourself isn’t something you like to do at all, but you know how elite society craves social connections, and you fear it’s needed in order to make your point to the arrogant man. At least you can brag about the rest of your family, who you are extremely proud of.

Hoskel looks at you with newfound respect. “House (Y/L/N) has done quite well for itself. I should have known who you were. I’d heard you were the one usually found on Ezreal’s arm when he’s at an event such as this, and now I understand why. You and your family are quite impressive.

You smile at Ez, who is looking far more normal-colored at this point, and run your thumb over his knuckles under the table before speaking. “Ezreal and I have been very close friends for almost two decades. We’ve known each other since early childhood. While he brags about my accomplishments, as well as the accomplishments of my family, I certainly don’t think my family’s social connections or achievements are why he invites me.”

It’s at this point you feel Ez squeeze your hand, silently signaling to you he’s jumping back into the conversation. “(Y/N) is right. I bring her because there is no one who understands me better nor is there anyone I trust more. Though I am more than happy to brag about (Y/N) at any time to those who will listen. She’s extremely impressive as we’ve all heard.”

Hoskel nods. “So she is,” he agrees. “And wise. She’s correct. My question to you was insensitive. I apologize, Ezreal. I spoke without thinking.”

Ezreal nods once to the councilor, acknowledging and accepting his apology through the simple gesture.

As the appetizer course is cleared and fragrant roast is set in front of you, you lean over to Ezreal and whisper, “Are you alright, Ez? Based on your reaction I figured that question brought back things you’d rather forget. I didn’t mean to step in as I know you can handle yourself, but…I…”your voice trails off as you hope you didn’t overstep.

Ez looks over at you and squeezes the hand he’s still holding. “Thank you for stepping in. I mean it. You’re exactly right. It brings things to mind I never want to think about again,” he whispers back. “But on a lighter note, how many people can say they have someone in their corner ready to take on a damn council member for them? You hid it very well, but I know you. You were absolutely furious with him.

You nod. “I was livid with him, yes,” you admit. “And I think my mother would be quite proud of how I respectfully tore him down a couple pegs. The question just made me so angry. Hadn’t he been paying attention? Magic and humanity can be cruel.”

“They certainly can be. But anyway, maybe I should start calling you “Angel,” since you were my avenging angel just now,” his voice takes on a playful tone as he responds.

You feel your cheeks get a little warm. “I don’t hate it. Test it out on me once the dancing starts, yeah?” You murmur with a wink.

He squeezes your hand one last time before letting go of it so he can eat the main course, nodding at you. “Good plan, princess."

“Am I falling in love with the one that could break my heart?”

The rest of dinner goes by without any fuss, and soon everyone is excused to gather in the ballroom for dancing. Ez stands and helps you up, again offering a stable arm for you to hold. He murmurs close to your ear, “Ready, Angel?”

You smile and murmur back low against his ear, “A. Yes I am ready. B. Oh I like the new nickname….it gets my stamp of approval.”

He chuckles, “Good because I like it too.”

“Now since it’s been two months, how worried should I be about my feet this evening, hrm?” You tease. You don’t really mean it. Ezreal is a surprisingly divine dancer. He always says that his dancing classes as a kid made his footwork much more agile for his expeditions, and you believe the agility he needs on his expeditions has turned him into an even better dancer.

You glance over to see Ezreal smiling widely at you. He gently squeezes your arm holding onto him. “I feel like I should be asking you that, Angel. You’re in heels this evening,” he murmurs.

You give him a playful pout. “Because of you, Ezreal! You picked out my footwear for tonight.”

He laughs. “So I did. I suppose any damage I take is my own doing.”

“Oh shush,” you giggle as you playfully swat his arm. “You’re skilled enough to deal with my two left feet.”

He smirks widely at you as the two of you find yourself in a beautiful ballroom. There are multiple doors opening to more private balconies, as well as to let air in. There’s also a bar where flutes of champagne and sparkling rosé are being poured. It’s a luxurious space, perfect for someone trying to show off his wealth and power.

You tilt your head towards the bar. “I didn’t have any of the wine with dinner, so I think I’d like some sparkling wine now. Care to join me?”

He instantly starts leading you that direction. “Of course, princess. That sounds like a great idea,” he easily agrees.

Once the two of you have your sparkling wines, him champagne, you the dry sparkling rosé, he leads you by the hand to one of the smaller more private balconies. On the side of the room he picks, there’s only the one, so it really is more like a completely private balcony just for the two of you. He draws the set of curtains in front of the door to show it's occupied. There’s a little table set up, and there’s plenty enough space for two people to dance.

You smile at him and say, “Thank you…my social battery was getting pretty drained when it came to people that weren’t you. This is perfect, Ez. Can we stay out here for a little bit?”

“Angel, we can stay out here as long as you’d like. I was also pretty done with most of the people in there,” he murmurs back as he wraps an arm around your waist and gently pulls you against his side, looking at you fondly. “We should be able to hear the music out here as well, so we don’t even have to go back inside for dancing.”

You sip your rosé and gently rest your head against his shoulder as you and him just watch the sunset. “That sounds…perfect,” you sigh happily.

“Glad to hear it, Angel. I aim to please,” he says.

You glance up at him with a shy smile. “Ezreal, you do an excellent job of pleasing me. In every way that matters and even some that don’t,” you admit. It’s quite an intimate admission, but it’s the truth. Even just being with him, standing here, makes you so very happy.

His eyes light up. “Do I?” he asks in a murmur. “Good. Since we’re being honest with each other, I can tell you that you also do an excellent job of pleasing me, again in all the ways that matter and even those that don’t. Always.”

You finish your wine as he’s talking, gently rubbing his back with the arm you put around him, the one not holding your flute. As he finishes talking, you lean up and kiss his cheek. “Ez, you are so important to me, and I hope you know that. My life would be infinitely darker without you in it,” you say, meaning every single word.

He turns his head and kisses your temple gently. His lips linger on your skin as he quietly confesses, “I do know that. I hope you know I feel the same way about you. A life without you…well that wouldn’t be living to me.”

You look at him as your heart speeds up from his incredibly tender words and the incredibly soft expression he’s looking at you with. “Ezreal…” you whisper, stunned. Tonight alone he’s managed to render you speechless twice by saying the absolute sweetest things. You reach up and cup his cheek, returning his soft expression with one of your own.

Just then, the music starts, disrupting the moment and causing both of you to jump in surprise a little since you were so focused on each other.

You can’t help but start giggling, “Fuck, that scared me!” You lean your head against his shoulder as you continue giggling, and eventually Ez joins in laughing with you, leaning his head on yours for a moment before stepping back from you and facing you.

“Now that we have music, Angel, may I have this dance?” Ezreal asks with a smirk and a well practiced bow, holding his hand out for you to take.

You deposit your empty flute on the little side table before turning back to him and curtsying. “I’d be delighted to give you this dance,” you say, playfully sweet as you place your hand in his, smiling as he easily pulls you closer.

His arms both snake around your waist as the two of you slowly start to sway to the music. Your left arm goes up around his shoulders, while your right hand gently comes up to rest on his chest where his heart is beating. You sigh happily as you let him lead.

He smiles softly at you. “Is this alright, princess?” He asks gently.

You give him a tender smile in return. "Of course," you murmur. “Ez?”

“Yes, Angel?” His soft response gently floats around you, almost like a hug.

“It’s funny you say, Angel, because if you get something new to call me, can I call you something new? You call me Princess, baby, and Angel, while I just call you Ez and Indiana Jones. That seems a little uneven to me."

He smirks gently at you. “I suppose it is uneven. I have no issues with you calling me something else. What were you thinking?” He voices curiously.

“Now of course this would just be between us two when we’re in private, but since you call me baby, could I call you that?” Your voice is shy as you ask the question. “I-I understand if you don’t want me to though, and I can find something else. It just seemed easiest since you already call me that.”

“No, you’re right, that makes sense. Sure, Angel. I have no issues with you calling me that,” he murmurs gently.

You smile brightly at him. “Thank you, baby.” You test out the new nickname. “Oh! What do you think?”

“I like it. It gets my full seal of approval,” Ez states with a grin.

Both of you laugh as you continue to dance with each other, softly chatting for a little bit. Eventually though, you two are just swaying back and forth in comfortable silence, your foreheads resting against one another. The position is so beautifully and peacefully intimate. You’ve never felt as safe as you do on this balcony. And as you realize it, you’re almost a little frightened, as odd as it sounds.

You’ve danced with Ezreal at these sorts of events hundreds of times over the years, but the last few times? Well, you realize they’ve all started feeling like this. Like it’s just you two while everything else is tuned out. Your heart keeps skipping so many beats, all because of one person, the man currently holding you in his arms, and it terrifies you to think about.

Your thoughts start to race as this realization sinks in. Oh shit...what the hell have I done to myself? What have I done in general?? Oh my god….oh my dear fucking god…am I…falling in love with him? Frankly you’re pretty sure you know the answer but you're refusing to believe that right now. That would mean admitting to breaking your own condition you put forth the morning you two agreed to this whole thing. “Condition number 4. No falling in love with each other.”

No, of course I’m not falling in love with him. I’m just surprised because he’s been so sweet since he’s been home this time. It’s because he’s been gone for two months, that’s all. Nothing else. Definitely nothing potentially friendship-ruining. Nope. Absolutely not. Everything is just fine. At this point you’re basically willing yourself to believe that because the alternative isn’t pretty in the slightest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice your arm around his shoulder tightening and your hand on his chest closing into a small fist, but Ezreal does. He can tell you’re completely distracted by something, so he gently kisses your forehead and murmurs softly, “Everything alright, princess? You’re really tense all of a sudden.”

You blink at him in surprise as his gentle voice snaps you back to the present. “O-oh! Y-yes, s-sorry. I didn’t mean to woolgather. I think my feet just finally registered I’m in heels. And they’ve started to hurt a bit. I-it was bound to happen eventually during the evening.” Your excuse is a little weak, but it’s not completely a lie. Your feet are starting to hurt because of the heels.

He nods. “Got it,” he says. “Would you like to sit? Or after one more song we can go home? Whatever you’d like.”

You give him a slightly shaky smile. “One more dance sounds good, Ez,” you decide.

He’s known you long enough though to see that something really has you bothered, and while he knows well that you and heels don’t get along, he’s pretty sure there’s something else in addition to your feet hurting, but he knows better than to push you to talk about it, just as you didn’t push him this morning to talk about what happened on his expedition. He spins you one more time under his arm before gently stepping back.

You hate how the cells in your body immediately seem to protest his absence once he’s away from you, but you can’t seem to help it.

He gives you a bow and murmurs. “The conversation from dinner still has me a little tense. I think going home is wise, Angel. Is that alright with you?"

You start to relax as you nod.

“I know these aren’t your favorite things to go to, so thank you again for coming with me. Truly. There’s no one I’d rather go with,” he says with a small but genuine smile.

Internally, that sets off your alarm bells again. Oh god he can’t say stuff like that to me. I’ll start to believe it…He says it so casually too…fuck me…damnit this isn’t good.

Externally though you manage to keep a calm demeanor, smiling gently at him and squeezing the hand he offers you. “These aren’t my favorite things, true, but you make them much more tolerable,” you admit. You are being honest there. While you might be freaking out inside, you’re not afraid to admit that being with Ez does make elitist society bullshit like this better.

The two of you re-enter the ballroom, leaving the almost cozy little world you created for yourselves on the balcony. The loud hum of conversation is a little jarring compared to the companionable silence and soft conversation the two of you found yourselves in moments ago.

Despite your prior warning thoughts to yourself, you find yourself gripping Ezreal’s hand a little tighter as he leads you through the room to where councilor Hoskel is standing.

Ezreal speaks once he has Hoskel’s attention. “Councilor, we greatly appreciate the invitation. Dinner was delicious and the company delightful. Unfortunately, I find myself still not fully recovered from my journey. I hope you’ll forgive our abrupt departure.”

You listen as he easily slips into the high-society member his parents, when they were here, and uncle trained him to be. You, Ez, and your brother even shared the same cotillion tutor when you were younger, and in moments like this, you’re grateful for the stuffy old woman and her lessons.

You step up next to Ezreal and smile at the elder man. “Yes, truly, thank you for hosting us. I hope the rest of the evening runs just as smoothly as it has so far,” you add on to Ez’s statement.

The councilman smiles at the two of you before jovially saying, “I’m very glad both of you could make it. I look forward to following your next journey, Ezreal. I’m even happy to help fund it when the time comes. And you, Miss (Y/L/N), your future is very bright. Your willingness to always speak your mind and make people listen is unconventional, but very admirable. I’m excited to follow your career, help where I can, and see where you go. I initially thought the friendship between the two of you was an odd pairing, but after the conversation at dinner, I see why Ezreal is always asking you to join him at society events. You clearly do understand him better than anyone. You two make an excellent team, the type of team that only comes from knowing each other as long as you two have. Treasure it in whatever form it takes. Companionship such as this is extremely rare to find.”

You and Ezreal speak simultaneously, “I will.”

You look over at him and blush a little.

Ezreal looks back at you, his expression a little surprised and the very slightest amount of pink on his cheeks. He quickly recovers and turns his attention back to Hoskel. “We appreciate the kind words, sir. Please enjoy the rest of your evening,” he voices before squeezing your hand and leading you from the ballroom to the front of the house where the butler was already informed of your intended departure and had the fancy little carriage brought back around for you two.

You gladly let Ez assist you into the carriage before scooting over on the seat so he can slide in next to you. “That was…that was quite the evening,” you murmur as you gently lean against him and rest your head on his shoulder. “For fuck’s sake, I took on a Piltover councilor. During the soup course!”

Ez’s arm makes its way around you. “For me, nonetheless. It was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen, (Y/N),” he chuckles softly before gently turning your head to look at him with a soft finger on your chin so he can gently peck your lips. “Thank you, Angel,” he whispers.

You just can’t help it as you lean forward and peck his lips in return, almost like a second nature response at this point. “You’re welcome, Ez. I'll always stand up for the people in my life that I are care about. You know that," you murmur affectionately.

He gently smiles and pulls you closer, allowing you two the rest of the ride to unwind. He’s just so sweet and gentle with you, but even then you can tell something is still a little off with him. You wager he’s likely still a little shaken up by the question he was asked at dinner, and you can’t blame him. While you don’t know everything Ez has faced, you know enough that pondering the “worst” trap he’s seen must be extremely difficult.

“Ez? Dinner and dancing wore me out, so I think I’m just going to undress and relax in bed for a while and read,” you say.

“I like that idea, Angel. I think I’ll join you, if that’s alright?" His voice goes into a very very gentle tease, “If it helps to convince you, I’ll provide the cuddles…”

You can’t help but giggle softly. “I was hoping you would,” you admit, making him smile widely at you.

Once the carriage gets to the front of his house, he gets out and hops down before turning back to help you. Since it’s really just you two and the driver who doesn’t really care, Ez makes it easy on both of you by just sweeping you into his arms and carrying you inside with a gentle, “So you don’t have to walk anymore in those heels.”

You rest your head against his shoulder. “Thank you Prince Charming,” you sigh happily as he once again carries you easily upstairs and to his room before gently setting you on the bed and helping you take off your heels.

“Happy to serve you, my princess,” he says with a wink, making you laugh. He then moves around and helps you unzip your dress so you can remove it, letting out a low whistle as he again sees the purple set. “Again, you look fucking stunning,” he murmurs. He softly kisses along your neck and jaw as he helps you remove your hose and the rest of the lingerie.

As he focuses his attention on undressing you, you make sure to do the same for him, quickly undoing his tie and unbuttoning his suit, pants, vest, and dress shirt. As soon as his shirt is unbuttoned your hands are on his chest, savoring the delicious warmth of his skin and the sure “thump” of his heartbeat. You can’t help but look up and giggle softly at him, “How unfair…you’ve thoroughly distracted me.”

“Just as you do to me, Angel,” he chuckles as he undresses the rest of the way. “But, let’s at least get your makeup off and our nighttime stuff done before we distract each other too much, yeah?”

You nod and stand, pecking his lips before you go into the bathroom with your toiletries kit, happily beginning to take off your makeup. You call out to him, “Why is it that getting unready almost feels better than getting ready?? I love dressing up, especially in the beautiful things you so kindly get me, but the feeling of removing my bra for the day and getting my face washed and teeth brushed is almost…divine!”

He comes and joins you in the bathroom, sharing the sink with you. “It’s a good question. I can’t relate to the bra part,” he muses with a grin, “but definitely agree about the feeling of getting the night routine done. Maybe it’s because, once you get it done, that’s when you feel like you can most truly relax.”

You nod in agreement as you brush your teeth. He has an excellent point, and you make sure to tell him so once you don’t have a mouth full of toothpaste. “See, now this is why I like you. Most people would write my musings off as silly ramblings, but not you, baby. You gave me a genuine answer, and I agree with you. I think that’s a great reason!” You rest your head on his shoulder for a moment and smile at him in the mirror.

He laughs. “Anyone who dares to call your brilliant mind silly can fight me. We have the most interesting conversations, Angel.”

You blush happily and kiss his bare shoulder before returning to your night routine. Before long, both of you are cuddling in bed, your legs tangled together and his arms around you as you rest against him and happily read your book. The moment is so lovely and peaceful, you practically forget the stressful thoughts you had earlier. Soon enough, you’re falling asleep, nuzzling his neck as he tells you a story about one of his happier adventures.

“No I don’t care about the pain; I’ll walk through fire and through rain; just to get closer to you…”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep when you’re woken up by a soft whimper. Everything is still pitch black out and you’re listening to the stillness to see if it happens again. Eventually you hear it again, and this time you realize it’s coming from Ez who has started shifting in his sleep, based on the movement of the mattress.

“Ez?” you murmur sleepily, wondering if he’s awake. It’s only when he doesn’t respond that you realize he’s likely having a dream.

Suddenly you hear a “(Y/N)? No….no stop!” slip from Ez’s lips.

Oh, he’s sleep talking. He’s saying out loud what he’s saying in his dream, you realize. You focus back on him, trying to figure out what sort of dream he could be having that would make him say your name.

Suddenly, he speaks again, this time his voice a lot more….panicked, which is never a word you associate with your level-headed best friend. “(Y/N)! No! S-Stop! Let her go! She has nothing to do with this! Hurt me if you must, but please don’t hurt her! I’m the one who entered this tomb. N-No! (Y/N)! Kill me, damnit! My life for hers! Just let her go! (Y/N) please hold on! I’m almost there!” His voice is frantic and he’s starting to struggle in the blankets, as if desperately trying to get to you.

Your alarm skyrockets as it’s clear he’s having a terrible nightmare about one of his expeditions and it involves you being hurt in some way. You quickly throw on the lamp on the bedside table and carefully move the covers off of him. While you’re worried about him, you know panicking won’t do anything to help. Your voice is as calm as possible as you shake Ez’s bare shoulder and say, “Ez? Ezreal? Baby, wake up. It’s just a nightmare, Ezreal. It’s (Y/N). Ez! Wake up.”

“No!” he cries out desperately as he suddenly awakens and startles up. His breathing is ragged, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s trembling and gripping the blanket like a lifeline.

“Ezreal?” You gently turn his head to look in your direction. His eyes are wide and unseeing in a haunted expression, and it’s clear he’s not fully awake yet. You cup his jaw, kiss his forehead, and tenderly wipe away his tears. You continue to speak to him in soothing tones as he shakes like a leaf, “Shhhhh Ez, you’re ok. It’s me. It’s (Y/N). Look at me, baby. Focus on me. Focus on my voice. I’m safe, Ezreal. I’m completely safe. Nothing bad happened to me. It was only a bad dream, Ez. We’re safe in Piltover. We’re safe in your room.”

You note the moment he’s fully awake by the spark of recognition in his eyes.

“(Y/N)? You’re ok? You’re not hurt?” he says, his eyes and voice still holding some panic as he frantically looks you over, hands skimming you to physically check your well being for himself.

Whatever he saw has him absolutely terrified. You’ve never seen him so rattled, and it’s honestly jarring, but you don’t let that show, still intent on calming him at the moment.

You gently rest your forehead against his to get him to really focus on you, continuing to wipe away any tears that fall. Your heart squeezes as you continue try and ease the fear from his eyes. “Shhhh. Shhh Ezreal…breathe slowly for me. I’m ok…I’m safe, baby. I promise you, I’m perfectly fine. It was only a nightmare. We’re together, Ez….we’re safe,” you coo softly before wrapping your arms securely around his shoulders and nuzzling his neck just as he likes. “Feel this? You’re here, safe in my arms…” You softly kiss his cheek before gently kissing his lips, lingering until you feel him start to relax against you and feel his arms wind around your waist to pull you closer.

Once you pull back, you again rest your forehead against his and look him in the eye. As you feel him stop shaking, you peck his lips another time. When you eventually move one of your hands back up to his cheek, he eagerly leans into your touch. You tenderly whisper, “That’s it, Ez….back with me now?”

He sighs deeply and nods, closing his eyes and just letting his forehead rest against yours. His breathing slowly regulates and one of his hands comes up to cover the one you placed on his cheek. “Thank god…it was just a nightmare…or a memory, I suppose,” he murmurs so softly you barely hear it.

“I wonder when you go if I stay on your mind.”

You trace along his jaw lightly with your thumb as you softly inquire, “A memory?” You think for a moment. “Ez, I’m not going to make you tell me anything you don’t want to. But, may I ask some general yes or no questions so I can understand what’s going on? You don’t even have to verbally respond, you can just nod or shake your head if that’s easier. You may also stop me at any time, no questions asked.”

He laces his other hand with yours and nods, giving your fingers a squeeze.

You gently squeeze back. “Thank you for trusting me, baby,” you murmur. “To start, you said this is a memory, so this is something you saw?”

He nods and squeezes your fingers before whispering, “Yes. On my most recent expedition. The one I just returned from.”

You gently lay down, silently directing him to lay on your chest, melting as he rests his head where he can hear your heartbeat. Once he’s comfortable, you get back into your line of questioning.

“I see. Was this the trap you didn’t want to discuss at dinner, and the thing that happened that you didn’t want to talk about this morning?” Your voice is soft but your curiosity is unmistakable.

He squeezes your hand tightly and nods. You softly reach down and cup his jaw, melting even more as he closes his eyes, turns his head, and nuzzles your palm.

“Ezreal, did…did you see m-me being tortured when you were in the Tomb of the Fallen Lovers? Was that the trap?” you ask hesitantly. Based on what you heard him say during his nightmare, and hearing what he's told you so far, you can't imagine what else it would be.

He stiffens again and nods, looking up at you with a haunted expression similar to the one he wore when he wasn’t quite fully awake from his nightmare. Once he starts speaking, he whispers so softly you barely hear him, but his whisper is thick with emotion, “(Y/N)…I saw you being tortured and killed. I heard your screams and sobs as they hurt you. I saw you look at me with terror in your eyes as you cried out for me, desperately begging me to save you, to stop the pain. My very soul felt like it was being ripped apart every time I heard you say my name in such pain, in such fear. It was fucking unbearable, (Y/N). It was as if my deepest nightmare had come to life. I was going insane. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get to you. I could do nothing to help you…and then…I-I couldn’t save you in time. I’d never felt so helpless or useless in my life. I believed I failed to keep you alive, (Y/N). That very nearly broke me…completely. What good is my magic, what good am I, if I can’t protect or save those I care for most?”

You look back at him with wide eyes, your heart breaking at the distress creeping back into his voice.

He pauses for a moment to take a shaky breath. “The only thing that snapped me out of it was remembering the rest of the original story. How it was just a cruel illusion on the king and that the queen was really unharmed. That made me remember that you were still here in Piltover, that you hadn’t come with me to Shurima so it made no sense for your captors to have you. That’s what finally made the illusion and trap fall apart. But, fuck it was so realistic…” his voice finally breaks and you feel warm tears gently drip onto your bare chest as his breathing gets unsteady and he again starts to tremble.

You move your hand up to gently wipe away his tears again. Your voice is gentle and tender as you murmur to him, “Shhh, oh baby. Oh my god…oh Ezreal…” you’re struggling not to let emotion overwhelm you too. “No wonder you didn’t want to talk about it. I’m sure Hoskel’s question and the discussion at dinner had something to do with the memory reappearing in your nightmares. Your strength astounds me, Ez. I’d never want to relive that either if I were in your shoes and I’d seen realistic illusions of you being h-hurt or w-worse. Seeing that happen to you…even if it just turned out to be a t-terrifying illusion…God, Ez, it would completely r-ruin me.” You can’t help but let out a shudder as the horrific thought goes through your mind.

His voice sounds softly, “I also knew if I mentioned that trap they’d ask who I saw in there. You know how nosy that group is. And I didn’t want you finding out I saw you in there at the same time as other people, not when it’s none of their damn business. I wanted to tell you myself, in private. You deserved to hear it from me in private. That’s not the type of news to surprise someone with in public. I respect you too much and you’re too important to me.”

You gently shift down the bed so you can better cuddle him. He immediately nuzzles your neck, allowing you access to kiss his temple. “I’m very glad you told me in private, Ezreal. We’ll need to talk about this more later, because I’m sure it means something important that I can’t comprehend at…” you peek at his clock, “…3:26 in the morning. But for now, let’s table this extremely distressing topic and just focus on trying to get back to sleep. What else can I do to help you right at this moment to help you relax? Would you like some tea? Warm sweetmilk? Water?” You ask softly, playing with his hair.

He thinks for a moment before looking up at you and murmuring, “Warm sweetmilk doesn’t sound bad right now. Can I come with you to make it? I think getting out of bed for a bit would be helpful.”

You nod and trace his lips with your fingertips as you utter a simple, “Of course, Ez…”

You blush as he gently grabs your hand and places a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt and boxers. He tosses you another one of his shirts and then the neatly folded underwear of the lacy purple set so you can also get dressed.

Once you are ready, he offers his hand, giving you a shaky smile as you lace your fingers with his and give his hand a squeeze before letting him lead you into the rest of the dark house.

Despite the darkness and many stairs, thanks to Ez’s guidance, you never feel unsteady or unsure of your step. As the two of you move quietly, you can’t help but silently ponder everything you’ve seen and heard tonight. Why would he see me in the trap? I-is this why he’s been so very sweet lately? It’s overwhelming to think about, especially considering the thoughts you had earlier at the party. As well, for your own sanity, you don’t want to consider how very close you might have come to losing Ez. After calming him, the last thing you want to do is work yourself into a panic. You push those troubling thoughts to the side and move back to the present to focus on making both of you some much-needed warm sweetmilk.

He easily guides you to the kitchens, grabbing a couple mugs while you grab a pot and a cold bottle of milk. The two of you meet back at the stove and you’re relieved to see how he’s already far more relaxed than when he woke up. You pour the milk into a pot and add some sugar, anise, and a couple dashes of cinnamon while Ez easily gets the stove going. You grab a wooden spoon and carefully place the pot over the heated grate. As the milk heats to a simmer, you stir occasionally, keeping a close eye on things and getting lost in the routine of the recipe.

“You’re quite good at that, it seems,” a low voice murmurs by your ear as Ezreal wraps his arms around you from behind and sleepily nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder. He lays feather soft kisses there, making you sigh softly and tilt your head a little so he has more access.

“I happen to be a sweetmilk enjoyer when I can’t get to sleep, which is unfortunately more common than I'd care to admit. Are you trying to distract me? You’ll make me scald the milk, Ez,” you voice, mock offense coloring your tone.

You shiver as you hear the smirk in his voice as he whispers, “Would you rather I stop, Angel?”

You’re infinitely glad your teasing Ezreal is back after everything he saw in his mind, even if he’s making it much harder to focus on stirring the milk. “I mean my answer is no, baby, but, since I’m mianly making this for you, maybe you can wait until we’re back upstairs and not dealing with appliances that involve heat. You’re well aware of my clumsiness.” you tease right back.

Ez lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Fine….we can be sensible,” he grumbles, though you can hear the smile he’s trying to hide.

You turn your head slightly and grin, saying, “Out of the two of us, that tends to be my role, yes. The sensible one. You’re the bad influence who managed to corrupt me a little bit. But I’m not really complaining. Being a goody-two-shoes all the time was so stressful.” You finish your point by turning your head a little bit more and kissing his cheek.

“What a pair we make.” This time he definitely can’t hide the smirk on his face.

You laugh as you finish heating the milk, straining out the larger spices as you carefully pour the liquid into the two mugs he brought over. “Hopefully you like it. There are a million different ways to make warm sweet milk, but this happens to be the way I was taught by my mom,” you say as you hand his mug to him and pick up your own.

“Cheers!” You hold your mug up and smile as he gently clinks his against yours before both of you take a first sip.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs happily, his fond gaze finding you. “That’s so good….that is exactly what I needed. Thank you, (Y/N).”

You smile back at him. “Happy to help, Ez. Always.”

You turn off the stove and put the small pot you used into the sink to be washed later. After you return to him and grab your mug, you take his free hand and lead him back upstairs.

Back in his room, you hand Ezreal your mug so you can climb into bed first, sitting up against the pillows. You then take both mugs as he climbs in and settles next to you. Once you give him back his mug, you wrap your free arm around his back, gently cuddling him.

“Now that we have my second favorite sleep aid, how do you feel?” you ask as he lays his head on your shoulder.

He smiles. “Much better. And cuddles certainly don’t hurt either,” he admits shyly. “But back it up a bit. So sweet milk is your second favorite sleep aid. What’s your first?” He asks curiously, popping his head up and adjusting his position so he can look at you.

You can’t help but blush and let out a giggle before smirking widely at him. “It’s you, Ez. I sleep really well when we’re together. You’re number one because your methods definitely make me feel the…well...best,” you confess, unable to keep from giggling some more when you see surprised, wicked delight flash in his eyes as he starts smirking back at you.

“Well well well,” he murmurs. He gives you a mock bow as best he can in his current position as he leans towards you. “Happy to be of service, my princess,” he whispers playfully into your ear before capturing your lips in another deep kiss that you’re helpless to resist.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! This chapter was really interesting and fun to write. Like obviously Ezreal comes off as so confident and arrogant almost always, but the man has likely seen some shit in his travels and I wanted to explore that a little. Also I am a SUCKER for a good FWB gone wrong story. It's looking like Chapter 3 will be the last chapter of this particular fic, but I'm enjoying this "universe" so don't be surprised if there is a future one-shot based in it lmao.

[citrusmistressscribbles]

Our Glorious Evolution - Chapter 1: To Feel Your Love Again

It’s been three years since they parted ways and Jayce has never been more alone. With even his battles against the Machine Herald growing more infrequent, he begins to consider an option he swore he never would.

- - -

Jayce joins the Glorious Evolution.

[league-of-blorbos]

Hi, I write fanfiction sometimes but my biggest issue is that I'm very slow at it and I always end up leaving my half finished drafts to rot and never get posted. But I started writing this Heartsteel Yone fic in like 2 sittings and I really wanna try and finish it since I like the direction it's going.

It's mainly about my transfem Yone headcanon and them struggling with both dysphoria and the music industry, and maybe lead it into some Aluyone content since I love that ship in this au. While what I have is just set up for how Yone first met the band, I would LOVE any feedback on stuff I could improve or just some motivation to help me finish this draft.

(One last note, I'm referring to Yone with he/him so far but the pronouns will change later in the story as Yone sorts their gender out more)

Yone had very strict parents growing up. He knew it ultimately came from a place of love, but sometimes it was like they kept raising their expectations for him as soon as he started to get close to meeting them. When most looked at the two brothers, they would never guess Yone was the only one their parents had to constantly pull back in line while they never seemed too concerned about what his brother, Yasuo, was doing. Maybe it was because Yone always did better in school as a kid and had more potential in their eyes, or their parents had just long given up on trying to keep their younger son in check when he was always on the move. Whatever the case was, it felt like Yone’s parents wanted a say in everything he did, from trying to push him towards a more “respectable” career than music, to not allowing him to to buy the more gaudy and revealing clothes that he admired. It took so much convincing to even grow his hair out long and dye it, his mother telling Yone how handsome he looked with short hair, or his dad warning him that others would think he’s a woman. Of course, they relented after Yasuo also started growing his hair out to support his brother. 

Needless to say, Yone was relieved when he finally built up enough money from gigs to move out, and was able to have a bit more freedom in his self-expression. He wasn’t even completely sure why having long hair or pretty outfits meant so much to him, he just knew it somehow felt natural when he brushed his fingers through his long locks, felt his ponytail swishing behind his back, or how clothes that brought out his slender figure made him stare at himself in the mirror for a little longer than usual. 

But Yone didn’t have the time to question these little things as his career quickly took off, and a lot of those familiar restrictions from Yone’s childhood started to return. Now he was stuck where the people he’d DJ for had specific requests for what to play, and he’d gotten big enough to have agents and managers that kept him from straying too far from the mainstream sound. On top of that, Yone still cared for his parent’s approval to a degree, even if he didn’t live under their roof, and didn’t want to squander any big opportunities just because he felt a little constrained. 

But as the bar everyone expected him to meet flew higher and higher, Yone felt all the restrictions growing tighter and tighter, weighing him down more and more. He felt he had barely any time and absolutely no energy to work on any passion projects, the actual experimental and groundbreaking music that got him into the scene in the first place. His frustration reached a breaking point after a particularly tiring show. The equipment kept acting up despite there being no issues during setup, Yone kept having to play the same few songs over and over, and the set had to be cut early after a drunk fan rushed the stage and tried to get handsy with him. Yone was on his way home, feeling irritated, violated, and just so fucking exhausted. 

The very last thing Yone wanted to do when he got back to his flat was argue with a stuck up manager over the phone who insisted he should’ve continued the show after the crazed fan was dealt with. With Yone’s mind not in the best headspace and absolutely sick of never getting to do things his way, he finally lost his cool and got into a shouting match with the agent that went well into the night. When he hung up, tears were streaming down Yone’s cheeks, and he couldn’t tell if they were from all the yelling or if they were from the relief of getting everything off his chest right at the people who, at this point, felt like they were just there to make things worse.

The relief was short lived, as the agent had quit the next morning, leaving Yone with no one to help him manage the business side of his job. 

Yone felt at his lowest possible point. Maybe his parents were right that this wasn’t the path he should’ve taken, and that he should’ve just stuck with his robotics classes. But that all changed one night, it was a rare night when both he and Yasuo had time to meet up and just chill together like they used to. Of course, with both of them being DJs, the siblings naturally talked about music often, and while discussing up-and-coming artists, Yasuo brought up a duo trying to start a group; their names were Sett and K’Sante. 

[carcarcraziiv2]

JHIN ROMAAAAAAAAAAAANCE

Posted another part on The Fourth Chance! Come take a gander at this Jhin x OG Fem. Character Romance!

The Fourth Chance - 🗡️𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮🗡️ - Wattpad

[sirtrix]

Jinx Plays Monopoly Chapter 3!

It’s my birthday! YAAAY! Time to celebrate by updating this capitalist Jinx fic :)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39537423/chapters/102230382

[metalichotchoco]

The new chapter is out :] Yippee! I should maybe change the tags to include hurt- comfort at this rate lol

[manias-wordcount]

Just Hair (Jinx x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗺𝘆 𝗾𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘃!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚���𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

She’s usually not this…quiet.

  Well. Maybe that’s a weird thing to have. Sure, she gives the impression of a chatterbox. Someone who loves the sound of her own voice. Someone who can’t stand to be ignored or cast aside. You’d be lying if you said those weren’t your immediate thoughts about her when you first met her.

  But when you think about it, it’s really not like she’s talking all the time. It’s not like she says everything in a shout or a yell or a scream. She’s not loud and explosive and in your face every waking moment of the day. In fact, sometimes you think it’s others that do the talking for her. People who rile her up. People who she riles up. Her footsteps when she wants to be seen and make a scene. The footsteps that come running towards her whenever she’s seen and there’s about to be a scene. The explosives and explosions that she creates. The explosives and explosions that she’s drawn to. It’s all so loud. You associate her loud. She is loud. 

  Even when she’s not the one opening her mouth. So you suppose that’s why you’re so curious as to why she’s being so calm and so still for you right now. She usually isn’t like this. You don’t associate her with behaviors like this. And you just can’t help but wonder: why.

  After all, all you’re doing is laying her head in your lap and brushing through her hair. Not anything important. Not anything crazy. So why?

  Why?

  You think about it as you continue your actions. Your eyes sweep around Jinx’s hideout, hoping it’ll give you some type of clue. The dolls she made a while back are still there. A not-so-successful project is strewn about a makeshift coffee table. One you distinctly remember helping her paint (and then later spray paint) not too long ago. But no dice. So you turn your attention back onto her.

  The girl who’s always on your mind.

  It’s an odd sight, in your opinion. But a beautiful one at the exact time. You’re both on an old mattress. A nicer one in your opinion. You’re sitting up, legged crossed and back straight towards one edge of the mattress while Jinx lays across your lap, head cradled by your thighs. Her signature braids are undone and long blue hair is just about everywhere in your vision as you take your time while running the brush across every single strand you have access to. And it all connects down back to her. And every time you look at her face, you can see the same expression there. Eyes closed. Face relaxed. No frowns. No worries. None of those things. Just pure bliss. Pure, pure bliss.

  It truly is a foreign sight to you. Seeing her so at peace. You would have assumed she was sleeping if you didn’t know her so well. That’s why you’re so hesitant to break the silence. So hesitant to break the stillness that sits between the two of you. But you have to know. You just have to know…

  Why?

  And so, your mouth parts finally, deciding that it’s best to come right out about it. And that’s the thing. There’s a question in there, hanging on your tongue. Dancing on your lips. It’s there. But it doesn’t come out. Not quite yet anyways. You’ve learned to be very careful with your words around her. Very careful with your questions. In the years you’ve been with friends with her, you’ve learned how fragile a hair-trigger can be. You learned how random her trigger can be as well. With things you never known. With things you’ve never expected. So you stay there, and you ponder. Thinking long, thinking hard about what you want to ask. What you want to say. And by the time the perfect sentence forms in your mind…

  “This is nice…”

  …she beats you to the punch.

  “What is?” You ask Jinx in response to her off-hand comment. She takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. And then another. And another. And another. And another. Rinse. Repeat. But in all honesty? You’re fine with this. Never once had you stopped looking down at your friend’s expression with a curious gaze. Never once had your fingers stopped running the bristles of the hairbrush through her long hair- carefully making its way through tiny little knots here and there. 

  Your question can wait if she’s willing to share. Anything in your life could wait for her honestly. Perhaps she knows that about you. Perhaps that’s why she’s taking her time with her answer right now. You have a feeling you’ll never know. She’s always been an enigma after all.

  But she’s your enigma. And she’ll always be.

  “Nobody has brushed my hair in a long, long time.” She finally says after a long period of silence. Her voice is as quiet and as calm as her demeanor is. But there’s nothing scary about this. No silent storm here- not even in the far distance. You’re happy about that. You want it to stay that way. She deserves that. She deserves this. “So this is nice.”

  “No one?” You question, almost absently, after a little while. It’s something to fill the void, really. Something to make her feel acknowledged and seen and heard- even when you don’t quite have a response for her at the moment. “Really?”

  “I don’t play well with others,” She reminds you, a playful lilt to her voice. And although her eyes are still closed. There’s an almost proud smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips- unable to stay hidden for long. “Except for you.”

  Well…I’m glad.” At the mention of you being the exception in you are her life, you can’t help but smile your own smile. Even if her eyes aren’t open to see it. You can’t help it. The words hit straight to your heart, even if she didn’t mean anything much by them. “That makes me special.”

  “You’ve always been special to me.”

  Her eyes are open now. Her gaze is on you. And even though her dark eyes are intense, you don’t feel like you’re in danger. You don’t feel like you’re about to be hunted or stalked. You don’t feel like you’re prey. So you hold her gaze. And you try not to think about just how soft it is now that her eyes are on you. Looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to her right now. And you want to be. Is it selfish to want that? Is it selfish to want that from her when you were once afraid of her too? Is it selfish to want that when you don’t even know her every secret yet? Is it selfish? Is it?

  “Yeah…” 

  It might be. It might be selfish. But by now, the brush in your hand has run over this section more times than you can count already. But you like just how smoothly it travels through her long, pretty hair. You like how it makes her smile a little more. You like how it makes her feel relaxed. Happy. Loved. Cherished. So you’ll do it a couple more times. Just to be sure. Just to be sure. It’s the very least you could do. She deserves that. She deserves this.

  “You’ve always been special to me too.”

  And you’re more than happy to give it to her.

[milksuu]

Do you have any random dad!phel headcanons you'd like to share about how he deals with twins? Because I'm still obsessed 🥲

hc: dad!phel and his twin boy parenting from mom!reader

tw: mention of death, angst, minor injuries

notes: rcv'd multiple req. for this one, so here you all go! between dad!phel and yandere!phel...I can't pick one atm. im obsessed with both. still working on some dad!phel comic pages. stay tuned for those. <3

dad!phel made a special request to be a stay-at-home father for the first few years to raise the twins. just until they were of elementary school age. working from home was a huge help, and none of the his band mates minded. and of course, neither did manager auntie alune. considering she wanted what was best for her brother and nephews.

dad!phel made sure to keep them on a consistent schedule as infants, doing everything from feedings to cuddle times. it took him multiple failed attempts to get them in sync, especially when they shared a crib. if one woke up, then sure enough to other did. wailing and crying. double the sleepless nights for him. he made the healthy-dad choice of switching from heart attack inducing energy drinks to zen-out green tea. but even that was becoming an addiction. at some point he did buy a seperate crib for each. and baby monitors helped help him anticipate when one was stirring, so he could intercept one before the cries woke the other.

dad!phel encouraged the twins individuality whenever he could. naturally, they gravitated to each other whatever the situation was. it was no different between him and alune. except he felt he relied too heavily on his sister most of the time, which made social life difficult for him to navigate through without her. to make sure this wouldn't happen to either of them, he never bought matching sets for clothing or toys. allowing them to decide how they preferred to express themselves. of course, he would never turn down a matching gift set from his band mates or alune. usually he saved those pairs for when they were being watched over by the gifting recipient. it saved him from a awkward situation, made the other person happy, and the twins apathetic. a small win.

dad!phel also encouraged them having different sets of skills and hobbies, to even friend groups. again, not easy when they constantly wanted to hold each others hands for dear life, especially in new situations. it wasn't unusual for one to cry when the other was taken to another activity in their primary school years. it always weighed heavily when the instructors mentioned these outbursts between them. thinking perhaps he wasn't being a good or fair father to them. it took many pep talks from alune and the school counselor that this was normal, and he was doing his best as a single father.

dad!phel was never the best at making lunches...or breakfast, or dinner, or anything culinary related. Everything was either undercooked, overcooked, over salted, or just not the right combination of ingredients. it was one of his sore spots as a stay-at-home dad. the twins stopped complaining when he all but lost it when trying to make a ham sandwich without too much mustard. the twins quickly learned to just say 'thanks dad this is great', feed it to the neighborhood stray or flowers growing outside, and sneak into the fridge later. but they always appreciated when their dad writes words of affirmation on their school lunches, like 'keep on shining my awesome stars', and 'love you to the moon and back'.

dad!phel makes sure the twins keep up with their sign language retention and development, making it a rule for them to always use it at home. believing it will help them bolster their prospects in the future. when they're being rather defiant teenagers, he will only respond to them if they sign to him while speaking. otherwise, he pretends he's deaf rather than mute , and just continues on with whatever he's doing. it doesn't take them long to change their tune, especially if their asking for the latest video game about to release.

dad!phel was and still is the master of all pranks. everyday is a potential battle field of trick mines and purposefully placed banana peels. he has house cameras installed for a reason. watching anytime the twins are hiding to blast him with a double-trouble water gun. little do they know, he has a water balloon launcher at the ready. the twins smarten up real quick, find the hidden cameras, then hack into the security system. uploading and rendering a static image of a 'peaceful' household. then it was dad!phel who had to smarten up real quick. especially when their prank on him almost blew up the neighborhood powerline generator. (he rather not go into details)

dad!phel doesn't have any pictures of mom!reader around the house. ever since her passing, it's been too difficult to have any kind of reminder. a pain that he can't seem to get over, no matter how many support group session he takes himself to along with the twins. but he is trying, for the day he can unbury a single photo he has of mom!reader from the depths of his closet. and buried deep in the recesses of his heart.

"Dad. It's not fair. It's like you just keep her all to yourself," one of the twins stated.

"Sure, you've told us about her, but you've never showed even one picture. So, why's that? Why won't you show her to us?" the other cut in, biting on his words. "Did you even love her?"

Dinner conversation fell to a static silence. It shocked him to his core. He had heard these words before. These whispers. At the funeral. Relatives. Family members. Friends. Conversing in front of him. Behind him. All around him.

[Look at him. He's not even crying.]

[Does he even feel anything? She died giving birth to his children for God's sake.]

[I feel bad for them. Even if they weren't planned. Imagine having to be raised by a father so emotionless as him. Does he even have a heart?]

[Did he even love her?]

His eyes were wide, staring at nothing but a distant memory. Lost to everything. His hands trembled. Reigning them to steady, he placed them on his barely emptied plate. Without a word, he lifted himself along with his plate, sauntering heavily to the sink. Washing, picking, scrubbing. Every spot. Every lie—they were all wrong. He felt everything. So vividly. So painfully. If he surrendered to even a fraction of it, the whole world would break into unmendable pieces. So he couldn't cry. Couldn't feel anything. He had to be strong for her. He had to be strong for them.

"Dad. Stop. You're going to—!" One of the twins rose in their seat, but it was too late. The plate shattered from the destructive pressure, slicing bits and pieces of his hands. He didn't feel a thing. Maybe they were right after all.

The twins rushed to their father's side. One worked on removing the splinters of ceramic digging into his palms, the other pressing wads of paper towels to his gashes and cuts. When the moment settled, the twins sniffed on their tears, hugging him at each side.

"We're sorry dad. Really sorry," one choked, burying their nose into his sleeve.

"We...We didn't mean..." the other hiccuped, dampening his other sleeve. "We just wish we met her. That's all."

In the vacant stare of his eyes, a wetness blurred his vision. For the first time. Since he gathered the two bassinets from the NICU staff. To the moment he stepped into a cold empty home with them. Afraid to even touch them, till they reached out and took hold of his fingers. The tears came pouring, and he felt they would never end. Drowning and suffocating him in such bitter sweet memories.

He gathered his sons in his arm, condensing himself in the comfort of their soft beds of hair. Allowing the tears to stain his face and drip in dollops from his quivering chin.

They had to know. They needed to know. They deserved to know. That he loved their mother more than anything in this world.

And with them, he felt her love every single day.

[superbat-love]

Barry: Hey Clark, we heard about your recent breakup. Really sorry to hear that, man.

Clark: [gloomily] Yeah...

Bruce: [stares out the window]

Arthur: You will meet someone better suited for you one day—your destined soulmate.

Clark: I hope so.

Bruce:

Hal: I mean, who wouldn't go for you? You're strong, smart and handsome!

Clark: Thanks Hal.

Barry: Yeah! I’m sure you'll meet someone who's just as kind and attentive and knows how to cheer you up whenever you're feeling down.

Clark: Mn.

Hal: Hey, there's this new bar that just opened up in downtown Metropolis! We should go and check it out this weekend! Whaddya say?

Arthur, Hal and Barry stare expectantly at Bruce.

Bruce: [slowly turns to look at Clark] I like the look of your bleeding heart.

Arthur, Hal & Barry: ???

Clark: [visibly cheers up] Thanks Bruce! You know, it took a few attempts to grow those flowers in outer space, but I finally got it right! They look slightly different from those cultivated on Earth, but I find them unique. I'm glad you like them too!

Arthur, Hal & Barry: It worked?!

[sloan-baux]

I finished my first draft! \o/

[racco]

Hello dear! I was wondering if I could request some Aphelios x fem!reader SFW headcanons? Perhaps he gets injured in battle and his S/O cares for him? Take your time!

Aphelios x reader taking care of him after battle

Fem reader

☆ Depeding on how long ago the battle was, he might still be under the effect of the potion, wich makes him not able to speak much, but it also makes it so that Alune still has some vision of what is going on and she is so grateful he found such a caring girl like you

☆ With his throat still being tightened from the potion he can't talk to you much, but as you are bandaging him he takes a moment to look into your eyes and mouth a 'thank you'

☆ Sometimes he can't even really tell how bad he is hurt because of the potion numbing him wich is why he's glad for your assistance, you can easily tell if his wounds are severe and need immediate attention

☆ As you patch him up and he starts to get sober he will not wince or flinch even if it hurts, that's just how much your touch relaxes him and trusts you won't hurt him more.

☆ At first would not expect you to care of him when it comes to battle wounds. It gets him nostalgic and remembers how he and his sister used to help eatchother after training so much their blood spilled

☆ It really warms his heart that he has someone to help him and take care of him in moments like these and he knows no matter what you two will always be under the same moon

☆ The next few days when he's still in recovery and healing, would eat and be thankful for anything you made him. In his head he's still a little embarrassed that he let himself be so reckless and got hurt so badly, he doesn't want you to see him like this.

☆ He thanks you with lots of affection and story's from the lunari and also from battles if you would like to hear about it

...

A/N don't mind my absence, I'll try to get to others requests too. sorry for not posting also I got spirit blossom thresh from a box daddy is home !!!!